Flowers
by xXDasXGoochXx
Summary: in xXDasXGoochXx's first Major non-erotic piece...Flowers...a WWII drama.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: well, this is it. I've decided to place all my focus (for now) on this story. So enjoy the very first chapter! **

Where the Flowers Bloom

By: xXDasXGoochXx

Chapter One

April 28th 1945

Berlin, Germany

Cpl. Thomas White scrunched his nose and covered his mouth at the sight in front of him; ten dead German troops looked to have been lined up against the wall and mowed down by a firing squad. Blood splattered and caked the brick wall turning the once grey colored building a mixture of dark reds and sanguine. The putrid smell of evacuation filled the air; flies already had begun buzzing and most likely laying maggots in the dead flesh. With a shudder, the Dalmatian motioned to the corpses.

"Alright, Pilkington…McCabe, help me search the bodies for I.D. Grant, get on radio and contact HQ. The fucking Russians took no prisoners."

White knelt over one of the dead soldiers. The cat was blue in color; his eyes staring open at nothing, mouth parted. White noticed the corner of something leather sticking out of the unbuttoned blue-grey tunic. Reaching for it, he grimaced slightly at the bullet sized hole and blood stain right over the heart. He wasn't a medic, but he was sure the kid had died nearly instantly. A macabre mercy if he ever knew one.

Thomas pulled out what he had guessed had been a small leather book, stained with blood. The book was held closed with a leather strap, a small slim piece of material used as a book mark, dangled out the bottom. Flipping through it, the corporal noticed several black and white pictures; four in all.

The first slightly bloodied but still viewable, was what looked like a family picture. There were four people; a rotund rabbit with his arm around a petite cats waist. Below them, kneeling were two young teens; a male cat and a female rabbit. They were all smiling; they looked happy. Sighing, he looked at the second, this was a picture of the rabbit girl, slightly older looking. The third was of the cat woman, the edges of the picture stained sanguine. The final one was of the soldier posing with another taller soldier; in the background, White noticed writing at the bottom but couldn't translate it.

He placed the pictures back in the front. Flipping through a few pages, he sucked his teeth. Standing back up, he turned to one of his men not busy rifling through the dead. The slightly sick looking, cat named Evans. White suddenly remembered he could translate German.

"Evans," the cat jumped slightly, straightening his spine and averting his eyes from the bodies. "Y-yes, sir?"

White couldn't blame the man for his queasiness; fourth platoon was recently refitted with new recruits and hadn't seen a lot of the action. The only reason they were even _here_ in Berlin was clean-up duty. White narrowed his eyes; the Russians were ruthless with their sacking of Berlin. Bodies of soldiers and civilians alike filled the alleyways.

"Evans, you can read German, right?" he asked, taking his helmet off and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He held out the journal. The black cat nodded quickly and took the bloodied book. Flipping to the inside cover he read shakily.

"Th-this Journal belongs to Private First Class Dietrich Weiss of the 2nd Division, 1st platoon…uh…" the private had to pause in order to scrape of some incrusted blood. The first ten or eleven pages were unreadable; the blood doing its job of preventing any from reading the penciled writing. A bullet whole had nicked the very top of the pages, this marked the largest concentration of blood stains.

The private paused, looking up at his superior who had gone back to rifling through the dead cat's pockets. Evans looked to the other men who were somberly sifting through the other bodies. They all looked focus on the task but Evans could tell they were all listening.

"Evans," Evans looked back to White, who was looking over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye. "Keep going."

Swallowing, Evans licked his suddenly dry lips, "Uh…ha! August 1st 1940…uh…I'm writing these…words…

XDXGX

I'm writing the words as clearly and as neatly as possible. I still don't understand why Aunt Angelika is making me write in this…who would I send it to, my sweet heart? I almost laughed at my own dark joke. Penelope was most likely at the bottom of a ditch buried beneath the bodies of her family and neighbors. Either that, or locked up in one of the Ghettos Herr Hitler had ordered them and anyone not of the Katze race in to. Mother had sent me a troubling letter a week ago speaking of the _SS_ searching the city for _Hase_, meaning Anais and Father. She had written that they should be safe at the family vacation home and that they would hopefully hide out the war until my service is complete. I hadn't been able to write them back yet.

"Weiss, we're moving!"

I put away the single pencil issued into my breast pocket and my journal in the inside of my jacket, right over my heart. Aspher had said that was good luck. I hope he was right. I haven't seen him since basic training in Berlin; six months ago. I hopped off the low wall I had been sitting on. Grabbing my issued K-9 and helmet, I jogged to catch up with the steadily growing stream of men. I could hear the sound of my boots sloshing in what was left of this morning's rain. The smell of black smoke from the panzers filled the air. In the distance, I could hear the sound of our artillery shelling the French positions in the town of Courtois. That was where we were most likely headed. I tried to push down the anxiety and fear bubbling up into my chest.

I quickly found my way to my platoon. Lieutenant Hoffmier had just arrived and looked to be speaking with the NCO's.

"Hey Weiss," I looked to my right. A tan colored cat, Schmeltzer. He always wore a lopsided grin, in my opinion, he was too happy all the time. He had come from one district over from where I lived.

"Yeah?" I frowned at the sound of my own voice. When had it become so scratchy, so full of fear?

"Sergeant says first platoons spearing the village. Down the front." His grin faltered a bit and he fumbled in his jacket most likely for a cigarette. Schmeltzer was only a year older than me…I chose not to respond and checked the slide bolt of my rifle.

"He says there is nothing to worry about," I looked back at him, he seemed to be fumbling with the lighter so I snatched it from his shaking hands and lit his cigarette for him. He went on talking like it was nothing.

"He says the French pigs don't know how to fight."

I refrained from mentioning the three bodies covered with wool blankets off on the side of the road a half mile back.

XDXGX

Chapter End

**A/N: Well? How was it? I REALLY need feedback in whatever form for this first chapter. This story will NOT be a happy one with rainbows and a happy ending…well…at least not a totally happy one. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's chapter two!**

Chapter Two

XDXGX

White took a long drag of his cigarette; his squad had recovered thirty six bodies today. Most in the same order as the first they had found in the alleyway. He felt as if he had made a mistake allowing Evans to read that dead Katze's Journal aloud. Even if the war seemed to be over, a dip in morale was never a good thing. But still he was interested. He had ordered Evans to translate and provide a copy as soon as possible. He had hoped to read it tomorrow but the brass had other plans for him. He had orders to round up his squad and meet up with recon ten miles east of Berlin for a pick up and transport. Apparently, recon had found an abandoned containment camp most likely ditched by the remaining German SS in defense of the city. Upon further investigation, they found only a single young woman; half starved to death and delirious. If White were any less of a soldier, he would complain about Second Squads constant end-of-the-stick grabbing. Clean up and now escort?

Good thing he was a very good soldier. The Russians had almost every road clear so no real worries about skirmishing. The mission would be defined as a 'cake walk'. He had the inkling that this whole "Mission" was just a publicity thing. Good thing no one paid him to think.

XDXGX

August 1st 1940

Bremen, Germany

I knew something was the matter when mother declared we would be staying at the family vacation home in Switzerland. It was out of season. And where was father? I had not seen him since he left to open up shop this morning. He would be terribly upset with me today because I had promised to help him bake bread for the workers in the textile factories. I told this to mother but she adamantly told me not to leave the house or answer the front door. Then she had left. That had been two hours ago. The sun had already set and the sounds of breaking glass and yelling filled the streets surrounding our small home. The noises scare me; five minutes ago I swore I heard gun shots. I miss Gumball…

A noise…the sound like wood splintering and hard boots stomping up the stairs; I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I move as quickly and as quietly as I possibly could; slipping under my bed. I placed a hand over my mouth and nose in an attempt to muffle my loud breathing.

My door slowly opened; black polished boots moved to the center of the room and stopped.

"I can _smell_ you _Hase._"

The voice was like that of a hiss. There was a clicking sound before he took a step towards my hiding place. There was a loud bang near my left ear; I closed my eyes as dust and mattress material rained down on my head.

"Next time I will not miss."

I shook as I quickly scrambled out from beneath the bed; hands up, I moved backwards until my back hit the opposite wall. My heart nearly jumped into my throat at the Katze's resemblance to my brother. He was a lighter shade of blue, and his ears were a bit more pointed and wider. I know this was not my brother. My brother would never point a pistol at my chest.

The man smiled and motioned to the door. "Outside with your Haschenliebhaber, by order of the Fuhrer you are to be detained and relocated."

"B-but I've done nothing-"I felt a hot pain as something heavy hit my cheek. I fell to my knees. I could feel blood pour from my cheek. I saw spots.

"Silence, _Hase_! I did not give you permission to _speak!_ Now move before I take your retched life!"

I scrambled to my feet; slipping on the wood floors. I tried keeping my eyes on the sadistic man. A sharp kick to my rear sent me tumbling into the hallway.

"Do not look me in the eye, filth!"

I quickly got to my feet and descended the steps, noticing a chuckling soldier, rifle in hands. He jerked his head towards what was left of my front door; it had been knocked almost completely off the hinges.

The chilly evening air cut through me; I immediately noticed my slightly ruffled and bruised mother between two guards. I rushed to her and hugged her tightly. She held my head to her breast, sobbing softly.

"I-I thought they had killed you, Anais!"

"Mama, why is this happening!?" I cried; shivering slightly as the cold air knifed through the thin fabric of my dress.

"Disgusting," I turned my head, still in my mother's strong grasp to glare at the man. He seemed to be ignoring us, instead peering down at the foot he had struck me with. "I'll need these cleaned again."

I could feel my anger boiling at this man. I _hated_ him. Father would-where was _Father?_

"Mama, where is papa?" mother looked away, her eyes wet with tears.

"Ah, the fat man, yes. Examples had to be made, you see. Unfortunately…"

I closed my eyes, praying that this was just a terrible nightmare.

XDXGX

Evans read aloud as the group of five walked down the beaten road. Every few minutes, they would pass Russian soldiers or incoming trucks carrying medical equipment. White admitted that this Dietrich kept detailed accounts of his happenings. White glanced back at Evans who had by now toned down to a monotonous droll.

Dietrich had survived the battle in the village, what happened afterwards couldn't be known due to the blood ruining the pages. When the print had become legible for Evans to read, he began reading again.

XDXGX

December 24th, 1940

No word from home; I fear the worst as news of the SS raking through Bremen on _Hase_ hunts reached my platoon. Aunt Angelika had written me informing me that mother had not shown at the family vacation home. I tried my best to stay positive when every ounce of common sense told me they had been captured. I could only hope they had been to a labor camp, and not a death camp. I can't write anymore right now. I've been assigned to the _Hunting_ squad today. I truly hope we don't find anyone.

Chapter End


	3. Chapter 3

**Enjoy. Depending on what kind of feedback I get for this chapter. I may return to doing other things. I am first and formost a fan writer. I write because my fans enjoy it. if you guys aren't really enjoying **_**Flowers**_**, I can put it on hold momentarily.**

Chapter 3

XDXGX

December 24th, 1940

My hands won't stop shaking. Things had gone terribly wrong. Why did things always go _wrong!?_ It had been so simple; clear out every home. We just needed to clear out every home of whatever enemy civilians hadn't given up by then. Most had given up an hour after the fighting had started. I had been assigned with two others to clear out five homes. The first four had been empty; the way things had been thrown, food taken and dressers cleared told us that whoever had lived there had been smart enough to flee before we had surrounded this small town. Maybe it was because the four houses had been empty that we unconsciously let our guards down. The procedure was simple; I was the only man in the squad that spoke even a little French. I had been assigned with Esswein; a black colored Katze who I had befriended somewhat in basic training. Müller was a dirty blonde colored Katze, quiet most of the time, I barely knew him. Esswein and Müller had been both from Bremen. It was my responsibility to call out to anyone who wanted to give up but was too afraid.

I had approached the small wooden gate; pistol drawn, Esswein covered the lower windows with his K9 carbine, Müller covered the higher ones. I remember distinctly feeling stomach cramps. This was usually a sign of something about to go wrong. I cupped a hand at my mouth to project my voice.

"_Please surrender! You will not be harmed!_"

Truthfully, this was most likely a lie. I could not guarantee that no one would harm any Prisoners of War. Silence greeted me so I decided to call again.

"_This is your final chance! Lay down your weapons and exit the home with your hands raised behind your head!"_

I turned back to shrug at Esswein.

"Window!"

I heard something whiz past my ear. Esswein fell backwards; three bullets puncturing his chest. Müller open fired on the window with his MP40, I rushed towards the only available cover: the front door. The glass of the window beside the door shattered as the muzzle of some rifle peaked out. I cursed; scooting away from the window as the shooter fired at Müller. I felt my mind go on auto-pilot as training kicked in. when the muzzle disappeared; most likely to reload, I pulled the pin on one of my grenades and flung it in the opening. I crouched low and gripped my helmet as the fragmentation grenade detonated; the loud bang was followed by screams and pained moans. I looked back to where a puddle slowly surrounded Esswein's deathly still body. I felt anger; he hadn't deserved that! I had given these, these _pigs_ their chance! I pointed to Müller; pointing towards the door, I signaled him to follow after I breach.

He nodded; I could see his eyes glancing over at Esswein. His face set into a steel grim façade. Nodding to myself; I took a moment to steady myself before stepping back and kicking in the door. The locks gave no resistance; the door swung on its hinges. My pistol was out, ready to shoot anything that moved. There were steps directly in front going up the stairs. The kitchen was just passed the stairs; I could see the backdoor from my position in the doorway. I took two slow steps forward; a moan met my ears and I whipped to the right. On the ground was a middle aged light blue rabbit. The grenade fragments had torn his stomach open, his intestines hung out blood mixed with intestinal and stomach fluids pooled around him. An old bolt action rifle was on the ground a few feet away from him. His glazed eyes, still held on, look towards it. I glared aiming at his face and pulling the trigger. I fired three rounds; the first hit him in the jaw; the second and third in the eye and forehead respectively. I heard the floor boards creaking above me. I glared at the ceiling. Müller entered the home soon after, my carbine in his hands. I motioned with my head upstairs and he nodded. Handing me my rifle, he took point with his MP40. He cleared the landing first; swiveling from left to right. When I cleared the steps, I noticed the hallway split to ways. To the left, was a set of two doors, to the right was a single door. Since he had the most fire power i told him to take the left while I took the right. I checked my clip. Satisfied; I slowly split from him as he crept the other way. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I got closer to the door. What could be behind the door? I had thought; would I be killed like Esswein; my blood pooling around my cooling corpse? No, I steeled myself. Rifle barrel first, I fired four shots into the door. The sound of a pained cry and a body fell. I kicked open the door and released another round into the teen most likely a little younger than I who had slid down against the opposite wall. He slumped forward and to the left as the shots pierced his chest. I heard something move in the closet next to him. Quickly pulled out my pistol I emptied the clip into the closet shutter doors.

Silence

I inched carefully towards the closet, kicking away the small revolver that the youth most likely had been holding. Reloading my pistol, I quickly slid the doors open pistol ready to finish off whatever enemy was left. What I discovered sent chills down my spine. The body of a woman covered that of a smaller rabbit. The child looked no older than seven. Wholes riddled the mothersback where she had attempted to shield her child. The child I could see was still alive, amazing was the feat because if the large bullet wound in her chest.i stood frozen as I watched her slowly choke on her own blood. Her forever fearing eyes locked onto mine.

"_M-ma…ma..ma…_"

She managed to choke out before her eyes closed and her head rolled to the side. I dropped my pistol; falling to my knees. I had killed a child…shot her with my own gun. I can't get her voices out of my head! I can still see her fear filled eyes as she fought to cling to what little life she had left. I can't write anymore right now. I just nee-

XDXGX

Evans abruptly stopped as the writing became unreadable again. White glanced behind him at Evans who was flipping through the blood stained pages. White decided that was enough for now, he could see the faces of Grant, McCabe and Pilkington; both falling in line behind Evans. They held grim looks.

White looked up at the sky as th rain began falling again.

Chapter End

**Sorry for the delay! I'm back at University for my fourth to go to orientation and then the party last weekend…I had planned to finish this on Sunday but Polish Vodka kinda said "Fuck that." PLEASE REVIEW!**


End file.
